


Eye

by RainbowArches



Category: Marvel Cinematic Universe
Genre: M/M, Some Swearing
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2014-12-30
Updated: 2014-12-30
Packaged: 2018-03-04 07:50:18
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,147
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/3011522
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/RainbowArches/pseuds/RainbowArches
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>The adjustment period is frustrating at times.</p>
            </blockquote>





	Eye

Nick stuck out his foot and blocked Phil’s shot, and then fiddled with his eye patch, hoping to adjust it more comfortably around his head. He wasn’t used to it yet; it always felt too tight, too present. He would move the band around, rubbing the skin underneath, or lift it away from his eye before gently replacing it, letting his skin breath. It was uncomfortable to wear; it was uncomfortable to not wear. He felt constricted with it and exposed without it. At least he was adjusting to his blind spot. He and Phil had taken to kicking a ball around outside; Phil aiming for Nick’s left. Nick blocked it every single time. Of course, that was an easy exercise. He got far more rigorous training at work. The point here was a little fun, a little fresh air, a chance for them to relax and channel any excess energy in a playful way.

Nick kicked the ball back. Phil sent it back with a little too much force and it went flying into the air. Nick caught it. He didn’t miss the way Phil tensed when the ball sped by, or the relieved slump of his shoulders when Nick caught it. Nick hoped the concern was for the windows and not his face. Phil had seen him do more impressive than that at work since the accident. Nick had been feeling tetchy lately about any sort of praise or concern related to the injury. Sometimes he bumped into things; no big deal. Wow, he was improving quickly. He was supposed to. Agents should always be improving. No big deal. He knew he was good, but he wasn’t at his usual best yet, and he was tired of being reminded of that. He just wanted to make quick progress and occasionally bump into things in peace. There was no need for everyone to comment, or very loudly _not_ comment, on everything. See? Tetchy.

He tried to fume privately though, and he tried not to snap, especially at Phil. He understood his intentions and he appreciated his concern; he was just so sick of being a cause for concern. It was different when they were both in the field all the time. There was always the fear of the other getting hurt, and quite often one of them would get hurt, but they were always together and they always bounced back. It was the sort of thing that was supposed to happen. Nick went on his first mission in four months since becoming the director, on his own, and came back with only one functional eye. Now Phil was always Hovering or Not Hovering, was always being so damned Supportive and Encouraging and THERE ALL THE TIME. At least, that’s what it felt like. Maybe he was exaggerating, and he had to admit he’d be the same way in Phil’s shoes. He’d tell everyone to fuck off if he weren’t so sure he’d regret it.

Nick dropped the ball and kicked it back to Phil. Enough whining, he thought to himself. He was allowed only a little bit of whining a day, even if it was in his head. How had he expected his friends to behave? How had he expected Phil to behave? “Oh, your eye’s gone. Whatever. Deal with it.” That’s the attitude _he_ had adapted, but he was the one with the bad eye. He wouldn’t feel that way if Phil were the one in the eye patch. He’d probably be just as upset without the attention. Well, not quite, but he would feel a little neglected. He’d much rather have Phil around, being annoyingly concerned and proud of him, than absent.

Phil put his foot on the ball. “Want to head back in? We should do the dishes and put the laundry away before we’re too tired to do it.”

“Nah. Let’s sit out here for a bit.”

Phil kicked the ball into the garage and sat in the lawn chair next to Nick. He stretched his legs out and folded his hands behind his head, breathing in the fresh air.

Nick tried to follow suit, but kept sticking his fingers under his eye patch to scratch his eye or to try to loosen it. Eventually he said “Fuck it” and took it off, shoving it in his pocket.

Phil looked at him curiously, but didn’t say anything. Nick always waited until they were in bed and the lights were out before taking the eye patch off, and he made it a point to always have it back on when Phil woke up. He couldn’t put his finger on what bothered him exactly. He didn’t think he was self-conscious. He had scars in other places that he didn’t mind Phil seeing. In fact, he was rather proud of his scars, “in an annoying macho way,” he’d been told. The ones on his face didn’t bother him. Maybe it was the reaction these ones got. He was alone when he got them. It was his worst injury so far. This was his longest rehabilitation period for anything. It was a visible vulnerability. It made him visibly weak. It was a reminder to everyone that he was less good now. Sure, he’d get better, but that reminder would always be there. He really didn’t know what the problem was, but he always preferred people to stare at the eye patch than the eye underneath. Perhaps because he couldn’t stare back, not out of that eye. Whatever the reason, Nick was glad Phil didn’t comment.

He kept it off for the rest of the night, and eventually forgot to be aware that he wasn’t wearing it. Phil seemed to forget too. They got the dishes washed and put away. Phil had been right about the laundry though. There was a huge pile of it on the bed that needed to be folded and put away, but they were both too tired and ended up shoving everything onto the floor. They stripped to their underwear and crawled into bed. Nick was about to turn his bedside lamp off when Phil crawled on top of him and kissed his scars, once just underneath his eyelid, and once just underneath his eyebrow.

Nick didn’t know how to respond, and couldn’t think of a thing to say. The skin around his eye tingled, but not in the hot, irritated way like when he was wearing his eye patch, or the cool, nervous way like when he wasn’t wearing his eye patch. It felt nice, comfortable, like anything else Phil kissed.

Phil didn’t seem to be waiting for a response. He stroked his thumb gently under his eye once and smiled at him, before turning around and turning off the light. “Goodnight.”

Nick wrapped an arm around Phil’s waist and pulled him closer, kissing him behind his ear. “I love you.”


End file.
